


Jealous Attempt

by CloudAlevaz



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Naked Female Clothed Male, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slightly sub Sherlock, Smut, Smut Prompt, and Dom Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudAlevaz/pseuds/CloudAlevaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock takes matters into his own hands in a very interesting way when he gets sick and tired of men actively flirting to Molly in front of his presence. However, it's nothing like scaring off the men, or punching them if they get too close like other jealous boyfriends. He attempts to show Molly just how he feels about not being able to do anything about the flirting since they've been in a private relationship for the past eight months; he does, however, sees that sometimes his plans sometimes don't go accordingly. </p><p>Smut Prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous Attempt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liathwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liathwen/gifts), [justmindy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmindy/gifts).



> Okay, this was the first smut prompt I wrote (I wrote 'Incoming Call' after this), that is getting published. I'm finally technically contributing to the Sherlolly part of the Sherlock fandom an I'd I hope this is any good! 
> 
> I'll also have to add that despite me reading, writing, speaking English fluently, this is not the language I was taught first. So if there's any other additional error that hasn't been spotted by my betas or myself, I apologize. 
> 
> Also thank you Liathwen and WritingPet for being awesome betas!

 

* * *

 

At first he didn’t even bother to notice that men actively flirted with Molly. He simply had an idea in his head that: since Molly and he had entered a romantic (and later on a sexual) relationship, men would simply go away and leave Molly alone. However there was a very big problem with that idea; no one outside their inner circle had any possible hints that the ever arrogant—yet— brilliant genius consulting detective, Mr. ‘I-am-married-to-my-work’ Sherlock Holmes would be in a relationship with Molly Hooper, one of the first in a decade to be employed at St. Bart’s Hospital at her young age. They’d been together for months, but even then Sherlock didn’t have the common courtesy of informing his best friend, John Watson, that he was in a relationship with his pathologist simply because he thought it was ‘obvious to anyone who observes.’

 

Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock didn’t have to fake the normality of dull relationships like he did with Janine, with Molly. He had shaped his particular mannerisms and wordings when he was with the other woman because he knew what type of man she liked. He really knew what women liked if he actually took the time to think about it and ‘waste his precious energy in giving what people wanted.’ With Molly, however, he didn’t have to do that simply because she had known him for quite a long time and she really wouldn’t appreciate it if he tried to be affectionate so he would meet the standards of what is normal in a relationship. He was eternally grateful for the woman he called his partner because being his actual self around her is still the same as he would be with John. Despite knowing that the little things such as holding hands, being very close with his partner, or any common signal that two people were in a relationship, Molly had assured him that she didn’t want him to do anything that was uncomfortable.

 

The work place consisted of the morgue and the lab for Sherlock, as well as the occasional crime scene if Molly was asked to join her boyfriend. While Molly was at work, she’d get the occasional visit from the detective when he worked with Scotland Yard or the majority of times, he’d come to test experiments out of boredom and to visit his Molly. For some strange reason that Sherlock couldn’t possibly understand, he felt like men began to hit on Molly ever since he’d begun a relationship with her. John had discussed with him on the matter, one or more several times since the detective found his answers odd to be true.

 

_“You might find it this hard to believe, mate, but Molly is actually a very attractive woman and men see that.” John had explained to him when Sherlock reluctantly went to him for a second opinion. “However what they don’t see that this attractive doctor is in a relationship with a drama queen because no one knows besides us and you two make no attempt to show people at Barts that you are together.”_

Sherlock’s mouth gaped as he acted all innocent just as he did every time John would call him a drama queen. Furrowing his eyebrows, he collectively pursed his lips as he clasped his hands firmly together, not wanting to ruin his train of thought. He had no come back, no smart or witty comment that would prove John wrong, because for once in a blue moon, the doctor was right. Despite him being right (for once), the fact only proved useless. He had no desire to inform the world that he was off the market (as if he ever put himself on it in the first place), so his solutions were narrowed down to one possibility.

 

           

For the following week after that discussion with John, Sherlock’s patience was being tested at the morgue in all sorts of ways. Since he never put himself out there to say anything to someone unimportant about his relationship, it kept his responses extremely limited. However the best way Sherlock dealt with it was to not respond; he was incredibly displeased with the constant stupidity men would spout at to his partner while at work. Nothing actually changed in terms of the amount of times Molly would get hit on, or the amount of times she had to politely reject every man that came up to her, but it still bothered him. He didn’t know why that particular week made him very irritable; Molly didn’t say anything about his snapping and his horrible mood since he’d been on a case for just the same exact amount of time. He swore he could have finished it in about two days, but he was simply distracted because of his unspoken problem with Molly. They haven’t been intimate in that week either, much to his dismay. Molly had told him early on that he shouldn’t even try anything while on her menses (which he learned that the hard way), so lack of sexual activity had brought his oddly high levels of irritable moodiness to an all-time high.

 

There was a way to fix it though; a perfectly good physical way to confront Molly about his complaint since the act of speaking his emotions was still a work in progress. Sherlock took advantage of his isolation on a case to the ultimate most by purposefully avoiding Molly outside his need at Bart’s. Molly understood that, strangely. She never texted him while he was on a very difficult case due to her not wanting to bother or distract him (which she was doing the latter by not doing anything directly), which Sherlock was eternally grateful for. He had his entire plan in his head and as always, leaving him no room for error in his calculations. He planned to execute it once Molly ended her shift on the end of her work week, leaving him casually visiting her a bit later.

 

He didn’t visit Molly that day; he had no real need to go, despite visiting her every single previous day that week. The case was handled soon enough and for once he was rather glad he finished it since his problem with Molly was far more interesting; the real case was the distraction. Sherlock pampered himself with a nice long shower and a shave before dressing like any other day by picking out his dry-cleaned forest green dress shirt since his aubergine wasn’t clean (like it made a difference to Molly; he found it interesting when Molly reacted to the green one). With his pristine line of suits in front of him, he took out one he didn’t use often and changed into that before finishing off with his rather expensive cologne that drove Molly absolutely crazy. Snickering to himself about the little extra things he did to put forth the effort to for his plan, he was extremely confident it would follow through as he took a couple square foiled packets from his night stand before putting them into the pocket of his trusted coat. Dashing out of his flat, he hailed a cab, and quickly gave the driver the address to Molly’s flat.

 

Sherlock didn't hesitate to knock insistently against the cool oak door that contained the brass numberings of Molly's flat address. He was jittery and nervous because not once had he ever felt such dread in admitting he was painfully jealous and possessive. He wanted to show Molly that she was only his, and he wanted to make it perfectly clear that they belonged to each other. He heard some shifting and moving around plus an added stint of pacing towards the door. Molly was probably comfortable in her bedroom; at this hour, she would have already gotten out of her daily shower to rid of the stench of chemicals. That led him to the deduction that she was not expecting him at all then, and in her pyjamas. Good.

 

"Oh hi, Sher-- _lock_ \--!" Molly began casually but the last bit of his name came out muffled when she didn't expect his long hands to cup either side of her head for a kiss. Sherlock kissed her hard, deeply as he pulled her body close to his, taking slow steps into her. "Sherlock, what-- what are you doing?" She breathed heavily, seeing she had to pry herself away from his luscious lips to figure out what the hell was going on. Sherlock ignored her even before she spoke and took the opportunity of their parted lips to move his own pair to the soft skin on her neck.

 

He contained a snicker when he heard a soft gasp as he lowered a hand down to cup one of her breasts, letting him know Molly was already getting off on his surprise attack, despite not knowing why he was doing such. "Mine." He breathed against her skin before sucking the crook of her neck. "You're mine, Molly Hooper. _Mine_." He growled incoherently, leaving splattered kisses all around the soft smooth skin of her neck, forming a small trail as he went up to reconnect his wanting lips against hers.

 

 Sherlock got a quick and eager response as Molly deepened the hasty kissing, wrapping her arms around his neck as a natural instinct. As they kissed, she had Sherlock shut the door promptly to avoid interested eyes, thus leaving Molly slowly walking them to the said shut door, with Sherlock easily following. His hands trailed down her slender waist to the small of her back before getting pulled away, not realizing he needed to catch his breath.

 

“Of course I’m yours.” Molly said breathlessly, though a hint of obvious puzzlement was felt in her words. Her eyes dilated exponentially, causing Sherlock to be unable to see the light brown color of her irises. “What’s all this about?” She added again, breathing deeply, Sherlock realizing he was having difficulty getting his brain to work and function properly. She looked at him, obviously not wanting to stop, but with obvious curiosity in his lack of control and giving in full reign to his sexual impulses (which was something that Molly rarely ever got to experience).

 

Sherlock looked at her cautiously, breathing evenly through his nose but still needed a second to contemplate his answer. Lying was something he’d done so often without problem or remorse, but lying to her about why he wanted to fuck her into possessive oblivion? Yes. No. _No_ , lying to her really wasn’t calling his attention. He only answered by leaning in towards her swollen lips to kiss them profoundly before pulling away. “I cannot stand this.” He whispered simply, pressing his forehead against hers, not wanting to meet her responsive gaze when she figured it all out. “Us. _Hidden_.”

 

She pressed her own forehead against him as well, grabbing onto the lapels of his infamous Belstaff coat—well more like hanging onto them for dear life. Molly was unsure how to lead on, though with his two verbal clues, she put the pieces together with a rather impressive quickness.

 

Pulling away, she only smiled at him until he opened his eyes to see a little hint of a smirk, almost a playful one from the woman before her. “You’re jealous.” Molly said, in the form of a statement, not a question.

 

The split second break of looking elsewhere left Sherlock confirming her words without even intending to. “Am not.”

 

“Course you are.” Molly smiled again, lessening the grip on his coat and to drag her hands to hold his waist inside the thickness of the wool. “You’re jealous that other men attempt to flirt with me, ask me out while you sit there not able to scare them off. You weren’t grouchy because of the case, you were grouchy all week because of that.” Molly explained, again, stating a fact rather than questioning him.

 

Sherlock only furrowed his eyebrows at her in mild interest for her quick deductive work (really wasn’t a difficult leap if his mind was properly working) before blinking furiously at her when her hands rested on the waistband of his perfectly tailored trousers. At that moment he discovered the tightness that his trousers only seemed to give him while near Molly. He also saw the obvious outline of his hardening prick, causing him to feel slightly flushed when the slender fingers caressed said outline, leaving him to clear his throat.

 

 “And you, Mr. Holmes…” Molly said with a lowered, lustful voice that was unstrained as she stroked him once slowly, making his breathing escalating silently along with his breaking resolve. “Came here, fresh out of a shower because I can still see a bit of moisture in your hair, picked out your best day suit with a shirt that you thought I would attempt to gawk at, so you can come to my flat, impress me by taking me, and fucking me hard to remind each other where we stand. Anything I missed?” She deduced him slowly, leaving her small hand fixed on his fully hardened cock underneath the annoying layers of thin fabric as her free hand went to undo the single button that held his modesty intact.

 

“Hold on.” She paused, slipping the unoccupied hand in the pocket of his coat, his right one to be precise, and took out the two foil packets, showing them to him with a quirked eyebrow. “You grabbed these with your right, since you’re right handed and you put it in your right pocket as a natural reaction. Now have I missed anything?” Molly teased, further deducing, leaving Sherlock a big flustered mess. His own breathing became sharp at being deduced by his partner, the only person to date that wasn’t his brother who was able to use his techniques against him. His eyes were matching Molly’s; the glassy sea green irises that Molly loved staring at were clouded with the black center of them. His calloused, violinist hands had reached the hem of Molly’s shirt, so tempted to pull it over her head and  he couldn’t help but feel faultlessly _aroused_ at it all.

 

“N-no.” He confirmed, crumbling the cloth that he was holding in his hands to keep himself standing straight. Sherlock didn’t want to think of the obvious color in his cheeks from the shy blush that appeared from how impressed he was with her. “You’re correct on all deductions. Quite frankly, you’re spot on form.” Sherlock responded with a rasp, desperately trying not to sound so affected by it all, despite praising her for her own detective work. If only he had the power to simply turn her and make her walk to the sofa, whip himself out to fuck her right then and there, he would have—but he was frozen in place. Curiosity got the better of him and he kept quiet to see how the scene would unfold.

 

Molly paused, taking several moments to observe him carefully and quickly assessed the results before leaning up to kiss him chastely. “Well let me show you who I belong to.” She promised with a cheeky grin.

 

Before Sherlock knew it, Molly pulled the zipper down of his trousers, causing Sherlock to give a prominent sigh of relief once he felt himself have far more room compared to the stiff restraints of a moment before. He only stood there, stunned before gasping in a miniscule breath as one of those lovely hands took a hold of him underneath his pants. He felt a hot wet warmth coming from his neck and realized Molly’s precious pair of lips were currently occupied as his hands tugging at the hem of her tee, urging to pull it over her head as she worked on caressing his cock. Successful, he looked bewildered at what he saw, and it was definitely not something he was expecting. Sherlock didn’t get a chance to feel all of her, so that minor deduction had slipped his grasp and he took a sharp intake of a breath, observing her small, perky and round breasts bared in front of him. “Do you – Do you always sleep without a bra on M-Molly?” He stammered when he felt a deviously slow squeezing stroke.

 

He definitely got a chuckle out of her as she nodded. “Eight months with us together, and _now_ you’re realizing I detest sleeping with a bra on at night? I like to let the girls breathe.” Molly giggled innocently.

 

Sherlock quieted her giggles by bringing her close to his chest again, hissing slightly as it caused a change of grip in her working fingers, before diving in for a heated, tongue-twisting kiss. His hands went to cup her lovely breasts, rolling a finger or two on her nipples as they pebbled at his touch. Molly gasped, almost lost herself in a moan before pulling away again, only this time she dropped to her knees and wasted no time grasping his girth steadily with her firm hands. Sherlock looked down at her and there was some ethereal vibrancy from Molly, something he couldn’t explain as she took the lead. Confidence swarmed over her when she took him into her mouth, causing Sherlock groaned too happily as he brought his head back to the door with a _thunk_.

 

All the self-control Sherlock had quickly diminished as he felt the heat of her mouth caressing him, praising him, teasing him, and worshipping him. He panted with the effort of not bucking his hips towards her as she worked, but it was beginning to become difficult. A slight drop of sweat creased from his brow as he was unable to hold back a deep groan as Molly’s hands caressed his bollocks. He rumbled out a low growl of her name, sounding broken and unhinged, just as the way Molly always left him – a true disheveled, flustered mess. She pulled her mouth away from him just at the nick of time, leaving Sherlock unresponsively still as he began to count the elements from the periodic table starting backwards. He didn’t know he was shaking slightly when Molly began to caress his arms affectionately, waiting for him.

 

He didn’t open his eyes at the hand on his arms, though he kept his own pair of hands tracing the soft pale skin on her back and hips, leaving it as a way to soothe his own thoughts. Molly didn’t wait for him though as she wrapped her arms around his neck to press her lips against his, humming softly when she got a response. Sherlock’s natural instincts were still present as he nipped at her bottom lip, receiving a sigh from her. His erection flung hard against Molly’s lower stomach, he shifted the weight of his legs, causing his prick to brush against her. “Do me a favor love, and lay on the floor.” Molly whispered mischievously, eyes marveling at him with lust and a hidden agenda.

 

Still dazed from the near orgasm he almost experienced, he didn’t even respond, just let her take his hand to walk him to a free space and pulled a fluffy body, blanket draping on the floor so it wouldn’t hurt his back. He nodded and to sit down on the floor, between her sofa and her coffee table, assessing the availability of the space before finally laying down. He also assessed himself with his crinkled forest green dress shirt, some buttons loose and exposing his skin, his eager cock flung back close to his navel, his soon to be messed up trousers still somewhat decent.

 

He didn’t know what to grab, looking to either side of him and not paying attention to Molly for a split second until his eyes paused half way to see her fully. With this point of view, it left nothing to the imagination. Her hair was still damp, but it didn’t bother him since her long, luscious, taken-care-of locks of hair were absolutely stunning. It covered her small breasts, though her nipples peaked out through the strands of hair, and if he believed in mermaids, he would have claimed she was one with a pair of legs.

 

He had always believed that the body was nothing but transport for what was important, but that small belief seemed to hide when he looked at Molly. He was brought down to his natural human impulses, now less controlled than ever as he looked at her with wanting eyes, looming over the valley of her breasts, down to the flat and firm torso expanding out to the curves she possessed. Her sex was covered by a simple, black lace-trimmed pair of knickers, which brought him back into reality as Molly rolled them down before kicking them off with her feet.

She walked over to him and straddled him, placing her arms over on either side of his head and directly met his own curious gaze. Their breaths mingled while Sherlock grasped her waist protectively, finally glad he had some use of his hands, before crooking his neck again to please her jaw line and inviting neck. A silky sigh emitted from her and an even a muffled moan when Sherlock’s lips hovered over a taut nipple before sucking it into his mouth. He kneaded her other breast, pushing her hair to the side. Molly shifted her body closer to him, pressing her hot, wet folds against his prick and a giggle quickly turned into another moan when Sherlock sucked a bit harder as an attempt to keep himself quiet.

 

“Like that don’t you?” She teased, rolling her hips leisurely, biting her lip at the friction she was giving herself as she rubbed her cunt against his length. “You’re definitely getting off from this, I can tell. Me on top of you, teasing you, doing anything I want with you.”

 

Sherlock cleared his throat and bucked his hips forward, and towards her cunt, trying to get as much pleasure as he could. “Yes.” He managed to say with a huff, letting his hands explore the already familiar terrain every curve and roll that was her body. “I’m not going to say it,” he stated, not giving up yet, though god, how badly he wanted to just let his ego down and succumb to her.

 

“Oh?” She quirked an eyebrow at him before grinding her arse against him, slowly and evenly like waves that touched the coast that was Sherlock. His grip on her hips tightened a little more at that, as he glared at her. She giggled in response, though she didn’t stop. Sherlock contemplated his next possible moves. He could easily get up and pin her to the floor and be done in less than three seconds, but his curiosity and utter bewilderment of this woman that was his partner kept him at his toes. “My clothes—, you’re fully naked and I’m--”

 

“And still you look succulent enough for me to eat,” Molly interrupted and finished with a gleeful smirk, leaning down to rest her forearms instead. “Come on.” She added, giving her bum a little extra wiggle.

 

“Fuck—” Sherlock breathed before surrendering. “God, Molly. Please, just fuck me. I’m yours, okay? I shouldn’t get jealous. There. Pleased now are we?”

 

Molly licked her lips, smiling triumphantly before she reached down for his length and teased it along her entrance, finally allowing herself to be filled by him. Giving a gentle sigh as she sunk down to his base, she remained still for a moment until she sat up to rock her hips in a sensual motion.

 

Sherlock cursed under his breath as his hands never left her hips, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt her completely around his entire length, enjoying himself with that single stroke of relief. He was utterly tempted to bring his legs up and have them bent at his knees so he could take over and fuck her hard right then and there, but used what little control he had left at that point.

Molly’s lips weren’t idle; she leaned back down as her bum ground against Sherlock, hard and almost desperate for relief since Sherlock didn’t have the chance to at least do it once.  She lifted and lowered herself as she reached for his neck. Sherlock wrapped her arms around her back, keeping her close as he met her soft rolling with quick and shallow thrusts, before burying his face in her hair as he let out quiet curses.

 

Her pace began to quicken, heightening and the force which she came down onto him, leaving him breathless, wanting more and more. Her breasts bounced freely as the sounds of their bodies coming together became more vividly clear—and that drove Sherlock mad. She attempted to go harder for him, however at last Sherlock let instinct take over, he wrapped his arms firmly around her back to keep her secured, locked his legs and bent them at his knees for leverage, before snapping his hips relentlessly into her. He used all the willpower and energy he had in him to fuck her into possessive oblivion like it was his plan in the very beginning before things changed. Molly muffled out her moans and curses until after hearing the skin slapping against skin, their sweaty bodies colliding and holding onto one another, she let go.

 

Sherlock felt it. Sherlock felt the imminent wave as it crashed through her, body shaking, squeezing him until he too joined with her with a guttural moan. His moans vibrated against her skin, muttering her name over and over again without stopping as he emptied himself inside her before finally stilling his hips to a tired halt.

 

They stayed still, keeping each other close as they let each other catch their breath as Molly rested her head on his chest, gladly listening to the erratic heartbeat that was slowly returning to normal.

 “Reviewing what just occurred and how things played out, I probably shouldn’t have lost my restraint; though my plan was altered from the moment you flipped the coin—” Sherlock began to ramble before being silenced by a deep kiss.

 

“I don’t care,” Molly giggled softly as she pushed some strands of hair that were stuck to her forehead. “It was amazing.”

 

Sherlock only huffed at that, giving her a look before smirking all together. “I didn’t know you had a suppressed kink of shagging me with my coat and or clothes on.” He looked over her knowingly; it took him a matter of seconds to come up with that deduction. “Though if it were a bet, my money would be on the former.”

 

“Just as you have a kink of me not having an inch of clothing while you’re covered head to toe,” Molly shot back with a smirk of her own.

 

“Oh?”

Molly hummed in agreement. “You were trying to keep yourself still for me, to marvel at me—whatever it is, I’m right.” She smiled cheekily as she kept her weight off of him by putting it onto her forearms now resting on either side of his head once more.

 

Sherlock hummed as his fingers idly traced the contours of Molly’s lower back and bum, still remaining silent.

 

She caught that unnerving silence, one that involved deep thinking, and she only furrowed her eyebrows at him. “Do you think we should let people know?” She murmured softly, chills moving down her spine caused by the light touching of Sherlock’s fingers. “It’s a bit amusing to see you like this. Just a tiny bit.”

 

“Are you referring to me becoming a bigger pain in the arse due to the fact that being in a quiet romantic _and_ sexual relationship with you that’s hidden from the public eye stops me from kicking out any idiot claiming to be a competent doctor because they flirt with you and ask you out right under my nose? It’s very unnerving to feel this way and even more so to bluntly admit I am a jealous and selfish man that only wants you for myself.” Sherlock spoke in rapid fire, expressing his true opinion on the matter which made Molly smile knowingly.

 

“Yes, actually.” Molly giggled, but grunted a bit as she shifted to remove Sherlock from inside her before sliding to curl up to his side. “I think this was the cue to finally let people know.”

 

Sherlock took a deep breath and sighed irritably at that, though playful despite the imminent level of attention both would get once it happened. “Yes, I suppose, we must. Seeing those men attempt to get you to come with them for a cup of coffee makes me cringe.”

           

“You never accepted my invitations for coffee, Sherlock.” Molly smirked accusingly, resting her head comfortably on his chest.

 

“Well—yes, but— it’s different. I didn’t make a fool out of myself trying to get your attention this time.” Sherlock shot back.

 

“Yes, you did.”

 

“Did not.”

 

“Did too.”

 

“Did not.”

 

“Did not.”

 

“Did too.”

 

“Gotcha.” Molly smiled proudly with a hearty giggle, which was quickly cut off by a searing and loving kiss from the love of her life, Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
